Errant Ramblings: Mitzi Szereto’s Weblog

You can listen again to my interview on Newstalk Radio Ireland (with presenter Sean Moncrieff), where I chat about erotic literature, publishing, pornography, Philip Roth, and vampires.

Originally broadcast on 26 October 2010.

Click now to listen:

Newstalk Radio Ireland Interview

Check out my latest interview at Eden Fantasys, where I discuss writing, blogging, Mitzi TV, erotica, my new book In Sleeping Beauty’s Bed: Erotic Fairy Tales, the publishing business and, of course, being a social media maven! There’s even some advice for aspiring writers.

“Mitzi Szereto is best known for writing which mixes classical elements with current trends. How does combining the past with the present inspire Mitzi’s creative process? How does she see the erotic genre evolving in the future?”

Click here for full text of the interview.

Interview and discussion of erotic writing and male versus females writers; (broadcast on 24 June 2009, the Dave Monk programme, BBC Radio Essex)

Listen Now: BBC Radio Interview

Some of you may have heard about the recent fracas concerning online retailer Amazon.com. What happened is this: a whole slew of books had their sales rankings removed – books which apparently fell into a certain category, the likes of which have puzzled pretty much everyone. Amazon initially seemed to be targeting titles deemed to contain “adult content”, especially anything in the “erotica” genre. This then ended up being extended to gay and lesbian literature and even feminist works. Now we’re not talking only about those books with covers that would make your average raincoat and black-socks-wearing perv blush with embarrassment, but some very high-profile books as well, including non-fiction historical studies and works containing no sexually explicit content whatsoever.

Considering that many of my books classified as “erotica” are far less explicit than the average Jilly Cooper or Jackie Collins novel (see my blog post about mislabelling), this sounded like hypocrisy in action. So too, was the fact that titles containing nude photographs of women (and not the most highbrow either), along with memoirs penned by porn stars were still respectably ranked on Amazon. So I went and had a look and found that a number of my titles had been de-ranked. What makes this especially amusing (or not, depending on how you look at it) is the fact that Stephen Fry‘s autobiography was also de-ranked, along with classic works of literature such as D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover and a biography of Oscar Wilde. Rather than be upset by it as my fellow writers were, I felt flattered to be in such lofty company as Mssrs. Lawrence, Wilde and Fry.

Since I live in a cave (metaphorically), I had no idea this cull was even going on until I began to see mention of it in Facebook and Twitter updates. A petition had been started and was being passed along the grapevine (helped by me once I knew of the situation). Finally Amazon sat up and took notice, though they blamed everything on a “glitch”. (Sounds just like Facebook’s favourite excuse!) Now I’m not going to say the good folks at Amazon were telling porkers – glitches in systems are common enough, and something intended to perform one function can often end up taking over and creating havoc, much like the Hal 2000 computer from the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.

So why did this happen? Well, in some frothing-at-the-mouth Bible-Belting attempt to protect the delicate book-buying public from material that might be deemed to be of an “adult” nature, Amazon took it upon themselves to enact this de-ranking policy, which didn’t remove books from the site, but removed their sales rankings, thereby driving them, shall we say, underground. It also removed these books from search results. Perhaps I’m not the only one who lives in a cave, because surely any member of the public (regardless of age) can locate the most extreme, sick and disgusting forms of pornography online at the click of a mouse. So who exactly was being protected by this policy? Your guess is as good as mine as well as all the others who objected to this arbitrary silliness on the part of Amazon.

Now I know a lot of people diss Amazon and this hasn’t exactly helped the situation. They’ve become the company people love to hate (much like Starbucks). Surprisingly, a lot of authors have joined the hate bandwagon too, which I find surprising, especially since the odds are hugely stacked against authors’ books being sold at all, to say nothing of actually being stocked! If this makes me politically incorrect, so be it, but frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. I LOVE Amazon – and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Amazon is not the love that dare not speak its name. They have all my books listed for sale and if they are out of stock, they’ll reorder them. They also allow buyers to pre-order titles that haven’t even been published yet. (I suggest you hurry over to Amazon and do so for the upcoming re-release of my bestselling story collection In Sleeping Beauty’s Bed: Erotic Fairy Tales!) Now how many brick-and-mortar booksellers can even be bothered to do this when they can’t even be bothered to re-order a book that’s already been published?

Most of the big chains are in bed with major publishing houses (I won’t mention names, but two biggies here in the UK are definitely enjoying a gay old romp in the sheets with some heavy players in the publishing world). Why do you think the same stale books by the same stale authors are in every bookshop? God forbid if you want to be a Looky Lou and peruse the shelves to see what else might be worth a read – you’re pretty much stuck with Delia Smith‘s cookery books, David Beckham‘s words of wisdom, Katie and Peter‘s lives as happily married chavs, and Paris Hilton‘s riveting life story (or has it been published yet?). Of course you can’t exactly peruse the bookshelves at Amazon as you might a regular bookshop, but when a regular bookshop offers you a very limited variety of the vast variety of books and authors out there, you’re getting a raw deal anyway.

So stop your whingeing. Amazon behaved stupidly (how many of you can say that you never have), and they did something about it (how many of you can say that you have), so let’s all be friends again. As writers we can’t afford to thumb our noses at vendors who sell our product. And as readers/consumers we deserve the greatest variety of books offered at the very best price. Amazon has revolutionised the way books are sold. Fine, so they screwed up, but they listened to the public and they responded by rectifying the problem. I bet you can’t say the same for your local or national government or your utility company or your bank. And I bet you can’t say the same for your lover/partner/spouse either!

Well, it was yet another lovely week at the University of Wales in Caerleon – my third time at the Writers’ Conference. My erotic writing workshop attracted a diverse group of men and women of all ages and persuasions, and a surprising amount of talent. Some excellent work was produced in a short amount of time, ranging from the poignant to the downright hilarious. I don’t want to play favourites by mentioning specific pieces, but yes, I did find myself moved by several of the works presented on the final morning of the course. What is always rewarding to me is when people tell me how I’ve changed their perspective on erotic writing and that I got them to do something they never believed they could do – and to be comfortable in doing it. One participant even wrote a charming little ditty about me and Teddy (my bear, if you’ve not figured that out yet!). And yes, it’s suitable for those of a more delicate persuasion. I should add that this wasn’t part of the homework I’d assigned, but rather a … well… dare I say, “tribute”?

One great thing about the conference is that I got fed and fed and fed some more (I don’t like to cook). I partook of two desserts a day; anything with cream was fair game – and I was prepared to fight till death for it too! Of course, having Teddy with me tended to put anyone off violence at the dessert section. I doubt I gained any weight though; the region is extremely hilly and after schlepping back and forth to the village enough times (no one in Wales seems to know what “schlep” means), not to mention on the campus itself, I probably ended up losing weight. And yes, everyone kept asking me where I put it. I do hope they were referring to the dessert.

On Monday evening, Teddy and I went along on the pub crawl (though I’d already been in my favourite pub the night before – The Hanbury Arms – where Alfred Lord Tennyson apparently went on the piss and where I had my toes bitten – and I’ll leave you to ponder that one). On Tuesday I paid yet another visit to the Roman ruins, which has the remains of an amphitheatre. It was a perfect day, the clouds were threatening overhead, a drizzle had begun, and I stood in the centre of the arena no doubt looking very peculiar. I also wrote something on a stone (using another stone as pen), but I’m not going to tell you what it was. It’s personal. On Wednesday afternoon I went on the excursion to Hay on Wye. Well, if you’re really into mouldy musty old books, this is your Mecca. Everyone ran off to find their treasures; as for me, I found some ice cream and a pair of one-of-a-kind earrings in an artsy little shop. Or at least I think they’re one-of-a-kind. Our coach driver was a roly-poly fellow from Brecon who made a lot of sheep jokes. All I know is, I’ve been to Wales many times, and I’ve yet to see any kind of dodgy activity with sheep. Mind you, I did notice a cow walking a bit funny.

Moving on from the profane to the sacred, the highlight of the week was definitely the Thursday evening appearance of the Cwmbach Male Choir, a cheeky bunch of Welshmen who performed for us and then as is customary each year, continued in the bar for another two hours till midnight, downing pints and singing everything from Elvis to weepy Irish ballads. When they left (threatening to kidnap both me and Teddy), a disco ensued, but it featured so much Abba that I was finally forced to seek refuge in the computer room to check messages and return pokes on Facebook. (I don’t care what anyone says: I am NOT going to see “Mama Mia.”)

Sadly, I couldn’t stay forever in that lovely land and had to return to London right at the Friday evening rush hour. The tube quickly jolted me out of my Welsh tranquility with its delayed trains, trains that didn’t stop where I needed to stop, and trains that just sat there because there was a backlog of trains. One can’t help but wonder how Britain actually ran an empire when they can’t even run a transportation system. But I’m not going to get all political here. I probably should stick to writing fiction. It’s easier.